A sharp knife, my strong hand, your name cut
into a tree on this land marks that moment,
all those years, one moment in time, when my
heart was yours and I thought you were mine.
Seven years later our bridges are burned, this
tree has grown bigger and when I returned put
my hand out to figure those letters I carved
but this bark still growing had covered your
name and nothing is showing not even a letter,
the trail of a line, but I knowing better feel
a knot in my gut and my bark that now covers
the scar from your cut.